








Class_ I? 2 ^ 

Book / - : i. 



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3 


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Doctor Helen Rand. 


•01 


BY 



3 o *A/ * 


CHICAGO: 

The Physicians’ Publishing Company. 
1891. 

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* 
















COPYRIGHTED BY THE 

PHYSICIANS’ PUBLISHING CO. 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 



“ Take heed that ye despise not one of these 
little ones/’— Jesus . 


“Justice is like the Kingdom of God—it is 
not without us as a fact, it is within us as a 
great yearning .”—George Eliot. 


In the name of Justice to Children these 
pages are dedicated to woman’s truest friend— 
the woman physician. 


The Author. 





CHAPTER I. 


R. HELEN RAND was sitting at her desk 



LJ in her pleasant little office on Fourth 
street late one afternoon in July. An open let¬ 
ter lay before her which she had just finished 
reading for the second time. The letter had 
arrived the morning before, and had lain open,, 
where she could see it whenever her work 
brought her to her desk. She smiled content¬ 
edly, folded the letter and bowed her head upon 
her hand. The day had been oppressively 
warm; she had been at work since morning and 
was tired. 

“Dear Jack,” she murmured, “he hasn’t 
changed a particle. His letter is just like 
his old, jolly, good-hearted self; and he always 
speaks so tenderly of mother,” she added gently. 
The letter ran thus: 

“ Dear Sis: —If all is well I shall see you by 
July 12th. How strange it will seem to be 
in C. again after all these years; and you a doc¬ 
tor, good gracious ! But do, I beg of you, lay 
your rheumatic old women and teething babies 


8 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


away in flannel for a few days and give me a 
chance to talk you to death. Ah, dear sister, I 
have been willful I know, but it chokes me to 
think that the mother will not be there. But 
we must not look backward—that is bad philoso¬ 
phy. Only a few days, my learned doctor, and 
I am with you. 

Your devoted brother, Jack.” 

The letter was a long one for Jack. Her 
thoughts flew back to the day she last saw him. 
They had been always the best of friends and 
when he made up his mind to leave home he 
d sworn her to secrecy and told her his deter- 
nation. She had tried every means in her 
power to change his decision, but to no purpose. 
She could not sympathize with him in his rea¬ 
sons for going and was heart-broken at the 
thought of losing him. Besides, there was the 
dear mother; she was good and did not deserve 
such a hard blow. 

It wa« the culmination of years of antagonism 
between Jack and his father. How well she 
remembered the scene in the library which was 
the direct cause of her brother leaving home. 
The father, cold and unrelenting; the little 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


9 


mother, inconsolable, dissolved in tears; Jack 
defiant and rebellious, and she, Helen, simply 
miserable, uncertain in her own mind where was 
the right, and sure of only one thing, that they 
were all wretched. She heard her father say in 
that icy tone which always froze her heart: 
“ I have decided, my son, and it lies now with 
you. You are of age. I have done my duty by 
you faithfully, but to no purpose. You are still 
defiant. It is not becoming in me to ask why 
this burden has been laid upon me. God alone 
knows. Surely I have labored and prayed with 
you enough to save any soul not hopelessly 
lost; and now my duty is to my church and to 
the other members of my family. You have 
long been sowing seeds of heresy and dissension 
among the younger members of the church, 
until the deacons of my own church have felt 
it their duty to bring it to my notice. I will 
say nothing of the shame and disgrace you 
have brought upon me. Having failed in my 
duty toward you, I must take it as a just punish¬ 
ment from Heaven. The time has come when 
you must decide between your home and the 


10 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


wretched doctrines you have picked up, I know 
not where. My duty to my church makes it 
imperative that I should insist that you should 
either become one of us and work with us, or 
take your own independent course.” 

Mr. Rand had spoken deliberately and calmly 
and now sat immovable as a statue, awaiting his 
son’s reply. For a moment nothing broke the 
stillness but the low, half-suppressed sobs of the 
mother; then the boy turned upon his father 
and a torrent of bitter words broke from him: 

“ It is not true. You have not done your duty 
by me. What have you ever done to help me 
to a better life? You have cramped and warped 
my mind in every way in your power. You 
made my childhood a nightmare with your doc¬ 
trines, and now that you can no longer terrify 
me with them, you would banish me from my 
home and make my name forever a reproach 
there. You claim that you act in the service 
of your God, for His glory. You call me an 
atheist. If to disbelieve in such a God be an 
atheist, then you are right. You banish me 
because I will not believe, you say. Will not? 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


II 


I cannot! You charge me with corrupting the 
morals of the young men of the church by my 
bad example. You are right again, if by bad 
example you mean that I refuse to be a hypo 
crite; that I refuse to pretend to believe in the 
church when I do not; that I refuse to sit in 
church and listen to what I know is false; and 
I tell you it is all false, there is no justice, 
no right in it all. You can’t frighten me 
into believing it. I am proud that I can¬ 
not believe it, and will go to the ends of 
the earth before I will be a hypocrite. I am 
young and strong and am not afraid. You are 
my father,” said the boy, in a lower and less 
excited voice, “ and I will not, do not blame* you 
in my heart. You think you are doing your 
duty, but I cannot see it all as you do, and it is 
better that I go,” and he turned and left the 
room before his astonished auditors fully real¬ 
ized what he had said. 

By a strange coincidence, as Dr. Rand’s 
thoughts reached this point in her recollections 
of her brother, the door opened and the maid 
announced: “ If you please, doctor, a gentle- 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 

man to see you.” Helen looked past the girl 
almost expecting that her brother would follow 
her without the ceremony of an invitation, L- 
in answer to her involuntary look jf expecta¬ 
tion the maid said: “ He is waiting in the irecep- 
tion room, ma’am.” So the doctor rose slowly 
and walked into the reception with all her 
professional dignity; she could not be sure that 
the waiting gentleman was her brother. 

A warm grasp of the hand, a formal kiss upon 
the cheek, and the meeting she had long antici¬ 
pated was over. 

The meeting of intimate friends and near rela¬ 
tives after a long separation is always a sad 
event; we never meet as we expect we shall. 
The preservation of ideals, b&th in regard to 
ourselves and others, in spite of the evidence 
of our own senses, is one of the strangest of all 
psychical phenomena. Jack Rand had pictured 
to himself many times this meeting with his 
sister. He imagined himself hurrying up the 
steps, ringing the bell furiously and rushing in 
in his old way, finding Helen in the hall or parlor 
as eager as himself for the first glimpse,and catch- 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


3 


ing her in his arms, he would shower upon her 
kisses as in the old days, when he used to tease 
r by kissing her before the other boys. He 
always forget when making these pictures that 
Heler. was not living in the old home, but in a 
house of her own. When at last the hour came 
that he mounted the steps of his sister’s trim 
little house and saw on the door a modest sign 
bearing the inscription “Dr. Helen Rand,” the 
whole thing seemed so strange to him that he 
rang the bell very gently, almost timidly, and, 
when the door was opened, inquired in a tone 

which was propriety itself: “ Is Miss-Dr. 

Rand at home ?” During the moment which had 
elapsed before Helen entered the thought came 
to him for the first time that he was not the boy 
who had left home so many years ago, and that 
Helen was no longer a young girl with nothing 
to do but to await his coming. Strange as it 
may seem, he realized for the first time, that it 
would have been impossible for him to have 
rushed into a strange house in the familiar way 
he had pictured. It was years since he had 
moved with great alacrity on any occasion. He 



14 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


grew suddenly co-acious how corpulent he had 
grown, and wondered with a shock which was 
almost electric in its suddenness, if his sister 
would recognize him. A light step in the hall 
and Helen entered. His manner was almost 
embarrassed, as he rose to greet her. There 
was no likeness to the girl he had pictured, in 
the woman before him. The dignity and con¬ 
scious power which appeared in every move¬ 
ment, was a complete disguise for any remnant 
of the feverish restlessness, which was the one 
trait in Helen’s nature which Jack remembered 
the best He left her a timid girl, looking out 
anxiously over the unknown sea of life and 
awaiting fearfully what the Fates might have in 
store for her. He found her a woman, calm, self- 
possessed, who had learned life’s bitterest les¬ 
sons, and who now watched the shifting seasons 
with a philosophy unchangeable, because born 
of her own past. The first interview between 
the brother and sister might have been a very 
embarrassing one but that no one felt uncom¬ 
fortable long in Helen’s presence. They were 
soon chatting pleasantly about his journey, 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


15 


some features of his life in Australia and about 
her own work, Jack inquiring in rapid suc¬ 
cession of old friends and acquaintances. They 
were both surprised when dinner was announced. 
Helen proudly presented her brother to the 
other members of her household and the con¬ 
versation became general. 


CHAPTER. II. 


f OW, sister mine,” said Jack, as they 



1 N found themselves alone in the library 
after dinner., “ I warn you I shall give you no 
peace, until I have heard everything that has 
happened in this dear old crazy town since I 


left.” 


“Let me see,”said Helen musingly,“fourteen 
years, is it not, Jack ? It doesn’t seem possible; 
and yet the years roll around very quickly when 
one is busy.” 

“Yes, and when one is happy, or compara¬ 
tively so. I assure you, Helen, the first few 
years I was away took their own time in disap¬ 
pearing. I was desperately homesick and many 
times discouraged enough to give up, but I 
knew it was no use coming back here, espe¬ 
cially after father and mother died. Helen, you 
never wrote me the particulars of father’s last 
sickness.”' 

“ He never rallied from the shock of mother’s 
death and survived her only two months. The 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


1 7 

physicians said it was really a blessing that he 
went then, as they feared for his reason. You 
know he was always of a melancholy disposition 
and he grew much worse after you left." 

“Were you with him when he died?” 

“Yes, I was with them both when the end 
came.” 

Jack walked over to the window and looked 
out for a moment without speaking. There 
was a suspicious tremor in his voice as he said: 
“ I suppose they never forgave me for leaving 
home.” 

“ I think mother did, and I am also quite 
sure, as I look back, that she had serious doubts 
before she died of the justice of a religion 
which separated a family and made so many 
people unhappy. She said one day in speak¬ 
ing of you: ‘Jack was always thoughtful and 
kind to every one and obedient to me; I am 
sure he will come out all right. It may be, after 
all, that his father puts too much importance 
upon his believing just as we do. If one means 
to do right, surely the just Father will not con¬ 
demn him altogether.’ Our dear mother’s nat- 


l8 DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 

ural sense of justice and loving heart were 
always at war with her unjust religion.” 

“ But you, Helen, you did not see it all then 
as you do now?” 

“No, I had no definite ideas on religious sub¬ 
jects. I could not but feel that father’s treat¬ 
ment of you was unjust, and still I had such 
confidence in his honesty and goodness I would 
not willingly think he could do anythingwrong. 
I had not yet learned that there is no absolute 
right or wrong, that an action is good or bad 
according to the sanction of one’s own con¬ 
science. Father did you a great injustice, but 
his act was not unjust, because he acted accord¬ 
ing to the light he had and his conscience ap¬ 
proved his deed. I am convinced that he suf¬ 
fered from your leaving home as much if not 
more than any of us. He never mentioned 
your name from the day you left, but he grew 
daily more taciturn and gloomy.” 

“Well, I have often wondered whether or no 
I did right in leaving; but it was better that he 
should mourn my absence than be annoyed con¬ 
stantly by my presence, and I am convinced 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


19 


that the breech between us would only have 
widened had I stayed. It is very hard to tell 
what is best in this troublesome world of ours, 
but as you say, the only way is to be true to 
one’s own sense of right and manfully bear the 
results. But tell me of your own life, Helen, 
since I left. How did you come to study med¬ 
icine and what did you do with yourself the 
year after the home was broken up? Your let¬ 
ters were always so unsatisfactory. You talked 
of everything imaginable except yourself.'’ 
Helen hesitated a moment before she replied. 

“ I was only sixteen, you remember, when 
mother and father died. Father had accumu¬ 
lated nothing, poor man, how could he on the 
small salary he received, and I had nothing but 
the few pieces of old furniture which belonged 
to mother; the rest went with the parsonage 
and belonged to the church. Ah, Jack, I can¬ 
not tell you what a miserable, forlorn creature 
I was that evening after the funeral. I remem¬ 
ber it all as plainly as though it were yesterday. 
I was sitting in the parlor alone crying quietly, 
when Mrs. Parsons came in. You remember 


20 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


her, the wife of the deacon who made the 
trouble over your infidelity, and began pitying 
me and calling me poor dear and poor soul and 
talking about the wisdom of providence, until I 
thought I should go insane. Finally she ended 
by offering me a home with her until some of 
my relatives could come for me, and saying that 
the new minister and his family would be here 
in a few weeks, and besides it would not be 
proper for me to stay in the house alone. It 
was the first time I had realized that the par¬ 
sonage was no longer my home and that I 
really had no place to go when I left it. I 
thanked her and said I would let her know in 
the morning, that Aunt Sally, the old woman, 
who always came in ‘to lend a hand’ as she 
said, 4 on busy days,’ would stay with me that 
night. She insisted in my going with her im¬ 
mediately and seemed to think me a monster 
of ingratitude, that I did not jump at the offer. 
When rid of her, I dried my tears and sat down 
to think seriously what I would do. As I look 
back now, I am surprised to remember how 
coolly I viewed the situation. I decided imme- 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


21 


diately that I would sooner drown myself than 
live with the Parsons, and reviewed in my mind 
the different relatives in whose homes I could 
perchance make myself useful. Something 
ruled out each one—you know mother had no 
near relatives, and father’s were all East and 
most of them like ourselves poor—until I 
remembered Aunt Hester Pollard’s letter, in 
answer to the one I had written, telling her of 
father’s death. She was sick, she said, and could 
not come to the funeral, but hoped everything 
would be properly attended to, and if money 
was needed to defray expenses, to let her know. 
She went on then to tell of her own afflictions; 
how she had been an invalid for years; that with 
all her money it was impossible to get any one 
to care properly for her; that she was a miser¬ 
able, sick old woman and wished she too were 
dead as well as her brother. It was a selfish 
querulous letter, all about her own woes, but 
somehow I was drawn toward her, in her help¬ 
less condition, and I said to myself: Here is 
something I can do and I might as well be in 
one place as another. Mother always said I was 


22 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


a natural nurse, and was nowhere so much at 
home as in a sick room. I sat down with pen 
and paper and wrote Aunt Hester that I had no 
home now and if she liked I would come and 
nurse her, that she needn’t keep me if she didn’t 
like me and I would try hard to please her. 
You know about my going to her and will re¬ 
member that I staid with her a little over a 
year.” 

“Yes,” said Jack, who had been listening in¬ 
tently, “and that is about all I do know of 
that time. Your letters during that year were 
generally of two or three sentences and ran 
about thus: ‘Aunt Hester is feeling worse today 
and keeps me busy waiting on her. I have 
nothing to write because all my days are 
alike.’ ” 

“The poor soul,” said Helen, smiling ruefully, 
“ I could say nothing good of her and didn’t 
want to say anything bad. In all my subse¬ 
quent practice I never met any one so nervous 
and cross, and so impossible to please. She lived 
in a great dark old house on the coast, not far 
from Boston. The night I arrived the house- 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


23 


keeper met me at the door and I certainly 
thought she was going to faint. ‘You the new 
nurse!’ she exclaimed contemptuously, ‘ You 
can’t manage her.’ It seems that my aunt had 
not told her that I was her niece, but simply 
that I was a nurse. I don’t know what her 
object could have been but one of the first 
things she said to me was ‘ Don’t tell the servants 
that you are related to me, ’ and of course I never 
did. I remained with her little over a year and 
for my work received my board, a small salary 
and the proud distinction of having endured 
the affliction longer than any other nurse she 
ever employed. I have never quite satisfied 
myself in regard to my experience with Aunt 
Hester, whether it had a good or bacf effect 
upon me. I certainly learned to be forbearing 
and patient, but I think the same experience 
later in life would have been less productive of 
harm. A young girl entirely ignorant of the 
world is so prone to judge life by her own feel¬ 
ings and by the experience through which she 
herself is passing at the time, and indeed what 
other standard has she? So I left Aunt Hester s 


24 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


with the conviction that this world was a very 
gloomy world indeed; that people were all 
selfish and overbearing and the only way to 
live without being continually racked heart and 
mind, was to learn not to care; to expect noth¬ 
ing of the world and then one could not be 
disappointed.” 

“Not a bad philosophy,” said Jack, smiling. 

“No, perhaps not, when arrived at from a long 
acquaintance with the ways of the world, good 
and bad, and when there is mingled with it 
large charity and an unbounded hope; but cer¬ 
tainly a bad one for a young girl whose horizon 
of life is bounded by her own narrow expe¬ 
riences and who has learned neither a hope for 
the morrow nor charity for today. But, dear 
brother, I expect you are tired from your jour¬ 
ney and would rather be asleep than listening 
to moralizing.” 

“No, indeed; you stopped your story in the 
most interesting part. What did you do when 
you left Aunt Hester?” 

Helen hesitated a moment as if in doubt just 
how to answer. “You know it is a long story 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


25 


from that day to this;” then rapidly as if to get 
over a disagreeable subject: “ The year follow¬ 
ing I did general nursing in Boston. A nephew 
of Aunt Hester’s husband was studying medi¬ 
cine in the city and found me plenty of work. 
It was also through his advice and help that I 
began the study of medicine the*following year 
with the money I had been able to save while 
nursing. After I graduated I came back imme¬ 
diately to my old home, as you know, and con¬ 
trary to all the wise-acres, have built up a splen¬ 
did practice, and have no longer any need to 
count the pennies, or to eat the bread of de¬ 
pendence. And that, my dear brother, is the 
thrilling story of Dr. Rand to date, and now to 
sleep. I shall talk to you no longer to-night.” 

But Jack did not respond to Helen’s light 
pleasantry. 

“Helen,” he said, “when I think of all you 
and I have suffered for the want of a little 
money when we first started in life, it almost 
makes me hate my money now. It seems so 
unjust that one should actually suffer for food, 
as I did many times in those early years, and 


26 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


then be showered with five times more than one 
wants or knows what to do with.” 

“Yes,” said Helen thoughtfully, “it does 
seem so at first. But if the bitter experience 
of early life, even in regard to money, makes 
us better appreciate its real uses, and better 
able to handld it for the general good we are 
fortunate, rather than otherwise to have had 
them. I can assure you, you will find plenty 
of uses for your fortune in this woe-besieged 
city. I feel that I could use many times the 
amount at my disposal to help in the good 
works, in the hands of honest trustworthv 
people.” 

“Well, Helen, I shall be only too glad if you 
will take charge of a portion of mine; all I care 
is that it is well spent. You will think me in¬ 
satiable; but who is the young lady I met at the 
dinner table, and that beautiful boy—where did 
you find him?” 

“The lady is Dr. Kate Summerville. You 
will meet her again; we live together. The child 
is one I have brought up from infancy.” 

“By Jove, Helen, you made a good choice; 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


27 


such a manly, handsome little fellow one rarely 
sees. We will be good friends, I know. I am 
very fond of children.” ♦ 

" He is a very good boy; and now good-night, 
brother; you should have pleasant dreams the 
first night in so many years in your native 
land.” 

“And in such a fairy castle as this, surely 
there can be no bad dreams here,” answered her 
brother as he kissed her tenderly good-night. 


CHAPTER III. 


I T WAS a merry little company that assembled 
around Dr. Helen’s daintily set breakfast 
table the following morning. The brother and 
sister had returned very naturally into the old- 
time relations, and Helen’s companion, Dr. Som- 
merville, entered as heartily into the joy of her 
friend as though it were her own. The gentle- 
boy, who sat at Helen’s right hand and watched 
her every movement, completed the pleasant 
picture. Everything showed a taste and refine¬ 
ment very soothing to a man who is naturally 
fond of the comforts of a well-regulated home 
and who has been deprived of them for years, 
and Jack was in the best of spirits. 

Dr. Kate, too, was in an unusually agreeable 
mood, and before the morning meal was over 
she and Jack were the best of friends. It was 
.one of Kate’s favorite theories, that every one 
is surrounded by an atmosphere peculiar to him¬ 
self, which is purely chemical and that these 
magnetic currents act and re-act on each other 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


29 


according to laws entirely beyond our control. 

“ I see no other way to explain the effect 
different people have upon me,” she once said 
to Helen. “ The very sight of some people 
makes me nervous before they say a word and it 
is impossible for me to be natural when with 
them; my ideas all stop, refuse utterly to come 
to the surface and I feel and act like an idiot. 
While the presence of others is like a draught 
of champagne and stirs up all the wits I possess.” 
It was evident that Helen’s guest belonged to 
the latter class for Kate was at her best this 
morning. 

“It seems to me,” said Jack, sipping his 
coffee slowly to enjoy more fully the delicious 
beverage/'that you ladies are overturning all the 
old proverbs in regard to women. You know 
we men have been taught for centuries that 
women cannot live together in peace and that 
professional women cannot make a home.” 

“I can imagine,” said Kate, “that it must be 
very shocking to the masculine mind to see 
women living together without quarreling. It 
destroys one of their most convincing argu- 


30 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


ments to induce women to live with them; for 
even the most strong-minded of us are women 
still and cannot live without companionship.” 

“ Then, too, I suppose physicians are different 
from other women,” said Jack, tentatively, 
ready to retreat if this proposition was not 
favorably received. 

“Oh, yes,” said Kate, “ we are very different 
indeed. At least I should hope so. It would 
be a poor return for all our hard work if we 
come out of the mill just like other women;' 
not so, Helen?” 

Helen laughed softly and finished pouring 
Jack’s third cup of coffee. 

“Spare my brother, Kate, until he shall know 
us better; I think professional women are much 
like other women. I claim for them only the 
superiority which comes from a larger knowl¬ 
edge of life and life’s meaning. I think brother 
is right in that our peculiar training makes it 
possible for us to live together and grow in 
sympathy where it might not be possible for 
women who take a narrower view of life. The 
little things which in daily life are apt to pro- 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


31 


duce discord and which to other women are too 
often their sole interests, are to us only the in¬ 
cidentals and play no part in the grand total by 
which we judge each other.” 

“ In other words,” said Kate, maliciously, “we 
of the medical profession have learned to take 
the ‘characteristic symptoms’ only in judging 
our friends.” Helen joined in the laugh at her 
expense which greeted Kate’s home thrust, and 
Jack said: 

“You will .excuse me; but I must say it is 
especially hard for me to understand how you 
ladies can work together in harmony and belong 
to opposite schools.” 

“ Our amiability,’ ’ said Kate, “ is all due to our 
ignorance. We have discovered by comparing 
notes that neither of us know enough to quarrel 
over. After long and exhaustive discussions 
we found that our education in all branches of 
medicine had been the same with the exception 
of therapeutics, and we effected a compromise 
on that point. Helen acknowledged that my 
drugs did not always kill and that her’s did not 
always cure, and upon that we raised the flag 
of truce.” 


32 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


“ But did Helen not require any concessions 
from you?” 

“Oh, yes, I admitted that little pills in the 
hands of an all-wise Providence might be the 
means of effecting a cure, although I cannot 
understand the process.” 

“ This generous admission on your part must 
be entirely satisfactory to Helen.” 

No one enjoyed more than Helen Kate’s 
raillery at her pet theories. “I do not think,” 
added Kate,“that Helen deserves as much credit 
for her tolerant spirit as I do; for I am sure 
she has always had a lingering hope of con¬ 
verting me, and I have never for a moment in 
dulged in any such illusions. But, seriously, it 
is my opinion that any two honest physicians 
may meet as friends on a common ground in 
discussing what they don’t know.” 

“It is very refreshing to the laity,’’sighed 
Jack, contentedly, “to hear such confessions 
from the learned doctors themselves. We have 
been bled and blistered by one set of medical 
men only to be told by another that we have 
to thank Providence for coming out alive. We 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


33 


accordingly put our faith in these new prophets 
who have given us this valuable information, and 
are horrified to learn from the orthodox medical 
men that we are worshiping false prophets. 
Pray, what are we, the uninitiated, to believe?” 

“Why, nothing, of course. We don’t expect 
you really to believe anything we say; but 
there is a certain amount of professional dignity 
which we are obliged to sustain, and we have 
found no better way as yet than to contradict 
each other. And now, my dear doctor, I shall 
be obliged to leave you and Mr. Rand to visit 
in peace, as it is half after eight and I am due 
at the office at nine,” and Kate hurried off with 
a cheery good morning to all and a special 
word for little Paul,who considered “Aunt Kate” 
quite as perfect as it was desirable an aunt 
should be. 


CHAPTER IV. 


« H, DR. SOMMERVILLE,” said Jack, as 



i \ he overtook Kate one morning some 
weeks later on her way to her office, “ you 
seem in a hurry this morning?” 

“No,” said Kate, “this is my usual walk. I 
never could bear to crawl along as most women 
do. It is not considered feminine I know for a 
woman to walk as if she were really going any¬ 
where, but as it greatly aids my digestion I per¬ 
sist in doing so, old lady Grundy to the con¬ 
trary, notwithstanding.” # 

“Well, for my part,” said Jack, “ I like to see 
a woman strong and healthy and act as if she 
were alive. You say it is not considered femi¬ 
nine; I cannot see why women have allowed 
themselves to be burdened by all these super¬ 
stitions for so many years, for even you, Dr. 
Kate, must acknowledge that women are very 
stupid in regard to preserving their health.” 

“ Yes,” said Kate,sharply, “ and why shouldn’t 
they be stupid? They have been taught for 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


35 


centuries solely by men and what do men 
know of women? They have been taught that 
it was a fine thing to be sickly and weak, that to 
have a chronic headache and backache was 
really a mark of distinction, and all because you 
men want to keep women dependent on you. 
You don’t want them to be strong either men¬ 
tally or physically for fear they will lose their 
desire to be clinging vines and want to taste 
for themselves the rich wine of independence;” 
and the orator flashed on Jack one of those 
brilliant smiles which always made his head 
reel. 

•‘I must say,” said Jack, grasping after the 
first thought which presented itself, “ I think 
you are very unjust to the men. I never heard 
a man say that he admired a weak, sickly 
woman.” 

“No, I dare say not, and that is just the worst 
part of it; you don’t admire inferior women, 
but you are afraid to make them your equals. 
You haven’t the moral courage to teach women 
to be what you would really like them to be, if 
you were not afraid of their getting away from 


36 DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 

you. A fashionable woman with brains said to 
me a few evenings ago: ‘I assure you, doctor, 
men admire brainy women, but they are afraid 
of them and dare not encourage them.’ But 
here is my office, Mr. Rand, and I must bid you 
good morning. Whenever you get ‘ blind as to 
your eyes,’ as the Latin grammar says, come in 
between ten and one and I will give you the 
best of service and ten per cent discount on 
your bill, on account of your connection with 
the profession,” and with a merry bow Kate ran 
up a flight of stone steps which led to one of 
the most elegantly-appointed office buildings in 
the city. 

Jack walked on aimlessly. 

She might have invited him in just for a mo¬ 
ment, he thought. He would like to see what 
a lady’s down-town office was like. But no, she 
had left him, with that air that told plainly that 
he would not enter her thoughts again until 
they happened to meet. He was not used to 
this sort of treatment and it irritated him. All 
the women he had ever met, he said to himself, 
his sister Helen included, seemfed to make 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 37 

an effort to be agreeable to him and to 
•win his good opinion. But this young woman 
seemed to improve every opportunity to be dis¬ 
agreeable, and was as careless of his opinion, 
good or bad, as if he had been a talking-ma¬ 
chine or only half-witted. He became so irri¬ 
tated at her and at himself for caring how she 
treated him, that he walked on rapidly, not 
noticing where his steps were taking him until 
he was stopped suddenly by a hand grasping 
his and a jolly voice saying: 

“Hello, Rand, what’s up? Why this haste? 
Never saw you go so fast as this in Australia, 
and looking like a thunder cloud, too.” 

“Morton, old fellow, delighted to see you; 
hadn’t the slightest idea you were in C. When 
did you alight?”- 

“ Last evening, only, and I took the first 
opportunity to hunt you up. You didn’t write 
me as you promised, and I didn’t know your 
address, but got on track of you at the club, and 
was still pursuing the trail when I fortunately 
ran against you.” 

“ It is well we met because I am at present 


38 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


at my sister’s house and she didn’t know where 
I was going—-in fact, I didn’t myself—and her 
house is full of the maimed, halt and blind until 
noon and she cannot receive social calls during 
office hours.’* 

“ Well, where are you bound for, if I may 
ask?” 

"Only out for a ramble.” 

■■ Then,” said Morton, slipping his arm through? 
Jack’s, “what do you say to a stroll through 
the park? I have much to say to you.” The 
young men walked on, talking rapidly, Jack 
asking questions in quick succession about all 
the friends, business and social, in Australia, 
which his friend had lately quitted. 

“And now,” said Morton, after nearly an 
hour’s conversation, “ it is my turn to ask ques¬ 
tions. What have you done with yourself the 
two months you have been in this rushing, roar¬ 
ing, crazy city and why have you not written 
me?” 

“To both questions, I can only answer: I 
don’t know. Has it been two months? It doesn’t 
seem two weeks.” 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


39 


Morton gave a long, low whistle. “ That 
sounds suspicious, to say the least. You must 
have been very agreeably occupied. Met an 
old sweetheart, or have you fallen in love at 
first sight ?” 

Jack laughed good-humoredly. “I had not 
thought of a woman in connection with, my stay 
here until you spoke; but if there is a woman 
in the case it is quite the opposite of your sur¬ 
mises. If I have been doing anything in that 
line, it has been a study in a light way of the 
most aggravating bit of womanhood that ever 
came to my notice.” 

“This is certainly interesting. Tell me about 
her and let me help in this anthropological 
study.” 

They had seated themselves on a settee in 
the shade Of a beautiful clump of trees, over¬ 
looking a small lake. Jack stopped and picked 
up a handful of pebbles before answering and 
began skimming them over the water. 

“ If you expect me to describe the bundle of 
inconsistencies referred to, I warn you to be 
prepared for disappointment. However, I can 


40 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


make an attempt, to please you. It is,-she 

is-a physician.” 

“The dickens!” exclaimed his friend. “A 
woman doctor! What under the sun can you 
find to interest you in a woman doctor?” 

“ Did you ever meet one ?'* asked Jack quietly. 

“ Why yes, certainly, there was one in Aus¬ 
tralia, a very nice old lady; took care of the 
women and children and had the reputation of 
being a good nurse, too. They are all alike, I 
am told.” 

Jack smiled: “ Am afraid, my boy, you have 
been misinformed. The lady of whom I speak 
is no nurse, she is a thoroughly educated phy¬ 
sician, is young and-unmarried.” 

“Not married and practicing medicine ! I 
must say, Rand, I am rather astonished at you. 
You were always so particular of your lady 
friends. I understand that it is not considered 
proper for an unmarried woman to practice 
medicine.” 

Jack was wondering why he was beginning to 
be annoyed at his friend. 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


41 


You remember,” he said, quietly, “that my 
sister is a physician and unmarried.” 

. “Oh, I beg pardon,” said Morton, really 
annoyed at his blunder, “ I didn’t mean it ex¬ 
actly in that way, you know, and then I sup¬ 
pose your sister is an elderly woman.” 

Jack could not refrain a smile. “ My sister is 
thirty-one and has been practicing eight years.” 

Morton noticed a slight tone of annoyance 
in his friend’s answer and hastened to say: “ Well, 
you see, Rand, how little I know of women; 
and whatever your sister’s work may be, I am 
sure she is good and true or she wouldn’t have 
sprung from the same stock as my friend here,” 
and he laid his hand affectionately on Jack’s 
shoulder. Both laughed good-naturedly at the 
compliment and harmony was restored, but 
when Morton essayed to bring the conversation 
around to the young woman who started it, 
Jack deftly turned the subject. Somehow he 
wasn’t in a humor to speak of her. When the 
young men parted, after a dinner at the club, 
which only club-men know how to order, Jack 
said: “ My sister has insisted upon my remain- 


42 DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 

ing at her house and I will send you an invita¬ 
tion by the morning mail for tomorrow evening, 
if Helen has no previous engagement, and per¬ 
haps you will meet the young lady I have not 
described to you,” and with a hearty laugh the 
friends parted. 


CHAPTER V, 



HE following evening Morton arrayed hinj- 


1 self in his most faultless attire and started 
as soon as propriety would allow to fulfill his. 
en g a g er nent with Jack Rand at his sister’s 
house. 

He had thought over his conversation with 
his friend several times during the day and by 
evening his curiosity was at fever heat. To see 
two real live women physicians, not mid-wives- 
nor nurses, but bo?ie fide doctors, was to be an 
era in his existence. He had heard that there 
were such abnormal specimens of womanhood 
abroad in the land, but had never had any curi¬ 
osity to see them, avoiding them as he would 
any monstrosities shocking to the sensibilities. 

When the ladies rose to greet him on his 
entrance into Dr. Helen’s tastefully furnished 
parlors, he was obliged to bring to bear all his. 
tact to conceal his astonishment at the ap¬ 
pearance of the ladies. Two beautiful young 
women, dressed in the prevailing mode, receiv- 



44 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


ing him with all the grace and dignity of society 
women—he could not understand it, and was 
inclined to think at first that his old friend had 
played a practical joke upon him, and after a 
few moments conversation forgot entirely that 
they were physicians and was exerting himself 
to the utmost to make a good impression. 

“My brother has been telling us something 
of your life in Australia and what a good friend 
you have been to him, and I assure you it gives 
me great pleasure to welcome you to my home,” 
said Dr. Helen in that sweet, gracious way which 
was all her own and which made every one feel 
at home immediately. 

“You are very kind, Miss Rand, but your 
brother has always over-valued the little assist¬ 
ance I was fortunate enough to be able to offer 
him when he first arrived in Australia, and I feel 
guilty at accepting so much more praise than I 
deserve.” 

“Now, Morton,” said his friend, “don’t be so 
modest; and besides I have only told the ladies 
that you are generous to a fault and would ruin 
yourself to help a friend.” 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


4 ? 


“Faint praise truly and all undeserved; but 
tell me, Miss Rand, if I may be so bold as to 
ask, what have you been doing with my old 
chum since he has been with you? He tells 
me that the two months in your city seem to 
him no more than two weeks.” 

“Well, I am sure I don’t know,” laughed 
Helen, “ unless he has enjoyed quarreling with 
Dr. Summerville; whenever I have seen him 
lately he has been so engaged.” 

“ Really, Dr. Rand,” expostulated the young 
lady referred to, “ I think that altogether too 
strong a statement. Mr. Rand and I agree 
beautifully-on the weather.” 

Every one laughed, and Jack said, gloomily: 

“I believe that is the only subject we have 
been able to discuss amicably.” 

“I think I can guess one of your points of 
dispute,” said Morton, “as I have argued my¬ 
self long and loud with my friend, he is such a 
wretched heretic.” 

“Yes,” said Kate, “ we argue most bitterly on 
that subject, because it is the one question on 
which we best agree. I have noticed that the 



46 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


fewer the points of difference between two 
creeds the more tenacious the followers of- each 
bold to those points.” 

•‘Then I take it that you are not quite as bad 
a heretic as my friend.” 

“I do not consider one’s religious belief a i 
matter of much importance/’ replied Kate, “so 
long, as he accords to others the same privilege 
lie takes himself, that of believing what he 
pleases. It is the spirit of bigotry and intoler¬ 
ance, which,as far as I have been able to observe, 
as a part of all organized religious beliefs,, which 
does the mischief. If r for instance, St. Paul 
bad followed his proclamation in regard to 
woman: ‘Let your women keep silence in the 
churches’—‘I suffer not a woman to teach’— 
with the modest remark: ‘This is my opinion, 
I may be wrong, you are all at liberty to Use 
your own reasoning on the subject,’ do you sup¬ 
pose woman would be in the position sh 6 is 
today ? But when that learned gentleman fol¬ 
lowed his tirade in regard to women, with the 
diabolical wish that all who disagreed with him 
iriight be cut off, his devoted followers have- 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


47 


accepted, not only his reasoning, but his intol¬ 
erant spirit, also, and have proceeded ever since 
to 4 cut off ’ to the best of their ability, all those 
who have disagreed with them.’' 

“Then you do not believe,” said Morton, 
^‘that a man's religious belief necessarily deter¬ 
mines his character?” 

“No,” said Kate, emphatically, “ I do not. 
A man’s religion is a joint product of his heart 
and brain, and all religious dogmas can be* con¬ 
strued in a number of different ways. Witness 
for instance the different religions and sects 
built upon the Christian Bible. I have good 
friends and enthusiastic fellow-workers in the 
suffrage cause who believe, and I must give 
them credit for being honest, that St. Paul was 
an inspired writer. Of course I don’t pretend 
to understand by what process of mental gym¬ 
nastics they prove St. Paul to have taught 
woman’s suffrage, but when I find them espous¬ 
ing both the teachings of St. Paul and woman’s 
claim to the ballot, I must give them credit for 
being able in their own minds to reconcile the 
two. And, indeed, the mental process required 


48 


DOCTOR HELEN" RAND.. 


to accomplish this feat cannot be more severe 
than that which proves the Christian Bible to 
teach at the same time polygamy, monogamy 
and celibacy. No, I think it beyond dispute 
that a man’s character forms his? religion, not his 
religion his character, and' that a just man will 
have a just religion and an, unjust man an 
unjust religion and both may be evolved from 
the same source.” 

“ But, Dr. Kate,” said Jack, “ I have heard 
you say that the orthodox religions- were largely 
responsible for the wrongs women have suffered 
these many years.” 

“Not the religions themselves, but the in¬ 
tolerant spirit of the believers. A man may 
pursuade himself to believe that black is white, 
but so long as he uses no^ force to compel 
others to believe as he does, his belief harms 
no one, and he can even work in harmony with 
those not under the same delusion as himself. 
In a word, if a man is truly broad, truly liberal, 
his individual opinions on any subject can do 
no radical harm. By liberal I do not mean 
those who are found in the so-called liberal 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


49 


churches, but those who honestly believe in the 
divine right of every man to believe as he 
pleases,or rather, as he can.” 

There is a good deal of truth in what you 
say,” said Morton, thoughtfully. “ I have often 
thought that we find almost as much intolerance 
in the so-called liberal churches as in the strictly 
orthodox ones. I have heard as bitter denun¬ 
ciations of orthodoxy from the liberal preachers 
as ever were pronounced against liberalism, 
from the orthodox pulpits.” 

“That is the principal reason,” said Helen, 
who had been listening quietly, “ why I am- 
attracted to the Ethical Society, and particu¬ 
larly to our lecturer here. Prof. Latimer never 
denounces any religion. He looks upon the 
principles of the ethical religion as an evolution, 
from the old religions, and takes the ground 
that it is just as unbecoming in us to ridicule 
the religions of the past as it would be to revile 
our ancestors because they did not know the 
uses of steam and electricity.” 

“Well,” said Jack, “you are all very chari¬ 
table, but I believe I am one of the illiberal 


So 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


liberals, aforesaid. For my part I can not under¬ 
stand how any grown person, in this century or 
any other could believe the childish tales upon 
which all the orthodox religions are founded, 
for the same story runs through them all. 
Confucius, Buddha, Christ and Mohamet were 
all made central figures of the veriest fairy¬ 
tales, and to my mind no miracle attributed to 
any of them equals the miracle, which is daily 
presented to our eyes, of intelligent people be¬ 
lieving these stories.” 

The conversation was interrupted at this 
point by the entrance of Professor Latimer, 
who changed its course by explaining to Helen 
his errand. The board of the Ethical Society 
had decided to add two women to their number 
and had asked the Professor to invite Dr. Rand 
to be one of them. 

“I am sure,” said Helen, “I consider it a 
great compliment and if I can really be of use 
there, will be only too glad to accept.” 

“The board evidently think so,” said Phillip, 
smiling, “or they would not have agreed unani¬ 
mously on your name.” 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


51 


Helen laughed in a pleased way at this deli¬ 
cate compliment, and there was a suspicion 
among the other members of the little company 
that her selection was meant as a compliment 
to another, as well as to herself. 

Phillip succeeded in drawing Helen apart for 
a few moments to discuss the merits of the ad¬ 
vanced step which the society had taken, and 
Kate was really making herself agreeable dis¬ 
cussing foreign travel with the gentlemen over 
some fine photographs she had selected with 
great care. 

“ Is it possible,” said Mortimer to Phillip 
Latimer,when the conversation became general, 
“ that your society is only now for the first time 
placing women on the board of management? 
I had supposed woman’s equality part of your 
tenets.” 

“ I am sorry to say” answered Phillip, “ that 
such is not the case; unfortunately freeing a 
man’s mind from one superstition does not free 
it from all, and I am bound to confess that until 
quite recently the majority in our society has 
been opposed to admitting women to our coun- 


52 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


sels. Strange to say, this conservatism seems 
now to have been largely a question of policy* 
as of late a number of the leaders, who were 
supposed to be strongly opposed to the admis¬ 
sion of women on the board, have announced 
themselves as always in favor of it, but thought 
it unwise to join one unpopular movement to 
another, and for that reason alone have coun¬ 
seled against it.” 

“With all respect to your society, Professor 
Latimer,” said Jack, “ it seems to me a strange 
sight to see a body of men brave enough to 
defy public opinion at its most vulnerable point 
and weak enough to compromise with their 
consciences on a minor point.” 

“ If you will pardon me—just a word. I think 
there is a good deal of allowance to be made 
for my fellow-workers, even those who for policy 
sake have done an unintentional wrong to the 
women members of the society.” 

“ In the first place the subject does not pre¬ 
sent itself to their minds as it does to yours 
and, indeed, I may say to my own. To them the 
woman question is a separate one, a distinct 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


53 


cause to be worked out on its own line, not 
as to you and to me, an ethical question, 
which we are in duty bound to solve as well as 
questions of personal morality and responsi¬ 
bility. They do not look upon it as a question 
of justice, but one of expediency, and therefore 
not strictly in the province of an ethical society. 

“ Viewing it from this light, it seems to me 
that their position was really justifiable; and if 
you could know, Mr. Rand, what up-hill work it 
has been to bring the society to its present 
position, I am sure you would pardon what may 
seem to you a little worldly conservation on 
the part of our members. You must remem¬ 
ber when the society was first organized, nearly 
eight years ago, that to be an avowed woman 
suffragist was an entirely different thing from 
what it is today. Now it is a popular move¬ 
ment. A man is almost ashamed to confess 
himself opposed to it, whatever may be his real 
opinion. 

“The leading minds among both men and 
women all over the world are writing and speak¬ 
ing in favor of it. But even eight and ten 


54 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


years ago presented quite the opposite picture; 
and if at that time any small body of people had 
attempted to add woman’s suffrage to any unpop¬ 
ular religious cause, I rather fear that the 
pressure of public opinion would have been too 
strong for so weak a plant. On the other hand 
our position on this question has cost us some 
good workers,” and he looked at Dr. Summer¬ 
ville with a meaning smile. 

I have no religion,” answered Kate, “butthe 
good and advancement of my own sex. I am 
a heathen, pure and simple, because I cannot 
reconcile any existing religion with the best 
good of women. Could I but see my sex eman¬ 
cipated before I die, emancipated morally, 
physically, financially and politically, I would 
take my chances in the other world with all the 
heathens who have lived and worked in the 
cause of an oppressed class. I am free to con¬ 
fess, now that Professor Latimer has brought 
up the subject, that I was greatly disappointed 
at seeing a new religious organization formed 
without recognizing the equality of woman, and 
it only strengthened my former determination 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 55 . 

to belong to no religious organization. Woman 
will never owe her freedom and independence, 
if it ever comes, to any church or creed.” 

“It seems to me,” said Helen, “that my 
friend Dr. Summerville is almost too exacting 
in her zeal for our cause. I think it perfectly 
legitimate to enter a society where we can sym¬ 
pathize with the principle for which the society 
was formed, even if there is a difference of 
opinion on other points.’’ 

“ But you forget, my dear doctor,” said Kate, 
with an oratorical flourish, “ that I am not a 
moral culturist but a heathen.” 

Everybody laughed and Morton 9aid, gal¬ 
lantly: “You will pardon me if I remark that 
you are the most enlightened heathen I have 
ever had the pleasure of meeting.” 

“And the most charming,” ventured Jack. 

Kate shot a look of pretended displeasure at 
both. 

“ As heathens have no particular reputation in 
either direction I cannot feel under any obliga¬ 
tion to the gentlemen,” she said, addressing the 
company in general. 


56 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


This little personal episode broke the current 
of the conversation. Phillip looked at his 
watch and exclaimed at the lateness of the 
hour. 

The gentlemen all rose and, after a few min¬ 
utes’ quiet conversation between the Professor 
and Helen and a good deal of sharp-shooting 
between Dr. Kate and Jack Rand, bowed them¬ 
selves out. 

As the two friends returned into the parlor, 
Helen rushed up to Kate and gave her a hearty 
kiss. “There,” she said, in a triumphant tone, 
“didn’t I tell you I would convert them.” 

“ Why, yes, bless your dear heart, and I never 
doubted it for an instant. You could gather 
figs of thistles, the old proverb to the contrary, 
notwithstanding. I congratulate you with all 
my heart, although they are much more to be 
congratulated that they are to have the benefit 
of your clear judgment and exquisite sense of 
justice.” 

“ Kate, dear, you over-estimate my virtues in 
every particular. You will wish you hadn’t 
when I get so conceited that you cannot live 
with me.” 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


57 


“ If I could only get a little conceit into you, 
Helen, I should think I had done a grand work; 
it would be your salvation,” and Kate bade her 
•friend a merry good night. 


CHAPEER VI. 


W HEN Jack and his friend left Phillip Lati¬ 
mer at the street corner, where their 
ways divided, they strolled on arm in arm for 
several moments in silence. 

Morton was evidently thinking seriously on 
some subject, and it was so unusual for him 
to think seriously, that even the irreverent Jack 
respected his silence for a short time. At last 
he could repress his desire to know Morton’s 
state of mind no longer, and shook him gently 
by the arm: 

“Hello, old fellow, wake up! Hope you are 
not stunned beyond recovery. What do you 
think of her?” 

Morton laughed. “ How do you know I was 
thinking of her, at all?” 

“Oh, come now, don’t play off; and besides 
didn’t you promise to help me solve the enigma 
if I would take you to see her? She is the 
sphinx, you know.” 

“To be sure, I had forgotten. But to be can- 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 59 

did with you, Rand, I was congratulating my¬ 
self that I was not in love with her.” 

Jack started at this unexpected answer and 
said a little nervously: 

“Why, may I ask?” 

“Well, firstly, as the ministers say, I think it 
would be decidedly difficult for a man to per¬ 
suade her that he was necessary to her happi¬ 
ness; and secondly, I very much fear that if he 
should succeed in doing so he would regret it 
himself later. Seriously, Rand, these brainy 
women are all very well just where she is, in a 
profession, or out in public life, seeking to help 
her own sex; but in a home a man wants a 
woman who is more pliable, and who hasn’t 
such decided opinions. A man likes to have a 
hand in forming the opinions of his wife; he 
doesn’t want her ideas all cut and dried before 
he meets her.” 

“ Exactly what she said to me a few evenings 
ago,” remarked Jack. 

“What she said to you? Impossible ! How 
can a woman know how men feel about such 


things?” 


6o 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


“Probably some cynic like yourself has been 
instructing her,” said Jack dryly. 

They were used to bantering back and forth 
and Morton took no offense at the remark, but 
he was not to be laughed out of his argument. 

“That just proves now what I was saying. 
These confoundedly clever women,who can pick 
a man to pieces and analyze him as if he were a 
jelly fish, must be extremely disagreeable to 
live with. The best of us have our failings; we 
don’t pretend to be angels and it is impossible 
to live happily with a woman who knows every¬ 
thing.” 

“ I don’t deny that I enjoy talking with a 
woman with ideas occasionally; but for a steady, 
every-day thing I confess I haven’t the courage 
to choose one of your so-called intellectual 
women.” 

“ I must say, Morton,” answered the gallant 
Jack, warming up to the subject, “ that I can’t 
but think your opinions the result of ignorance. 
You confessed to me yesterday that you had 
met very few women of that order. Now I 
have seen the ladies you met tonight'daily for 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


6l 


nearly two months and they live together in 
perfect harmony, and differ on many subjects. 
They don’t pick each other to pieces just to see 
how disagreeable they can be.” 

“Oh, well, that is very different. Women 
don’t expect as much of each other as they do 
of us. It is natural for a woman to be sus¬ 
picious and jealous of a man, and it is that 
which makes it so difficult for a man and a 
woman to live peacefully together.” 

“ Ah, I see. You are really enlightning me, 
Morton. I have always been told that it was 
the women who found it so difficult to live to¬ 
gether in peace.” 

“Come now, Rand, I’m not going to quarrel 
with you over a woman. I’ve no doubt she is 
charming; and if a man is brave enough to risk 
the consequences, I’ll not deny that it’s a thing 
to be proud of to be able to win such a woman. 
It is evident that it is dangerous for a man to 
put himself in their power. I suppose they 
have reformed you completely, and converted 
you to woman’s rights and all that sort of 
thing.” 


62 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


“I'm not so sure of that; but, confound it! 
they put it to you in a way you can’t answer. I 
never could quite believe in women going to 
the polls along with a disorderly lot of men; 
but when a woman who owns property asks you 
point-blank why it was tyranny for men to be 
taxed without representation a hundred years 
ago, and not tyranny today to tax women with¬ 
out giving them a representation in the govern¬ 
ment, what are you going to answer?’” 

“ Tell them that the law supposes that their 
husbands or fathers look after their interests in 
that line.” 

“ But suppose a woman is not married and 
has no father living?” 

“ Then a brother or son must represent her.” 

“So I said to Dr. Summerville the last time 
we argued on this subject, but she coolly in¬ 
formed me that she possessed none of those 
interesting relations, and still the law compelled 
her to pay hundreds of dollars yearly in taxes. 
She is quite wealthy in her own right.” 

“Ah, Indeed!” remarked Morton medita¬ 
tively. 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND 


63 


We would be loath to do the gentleman any 
injustice, but a golden glitter thrown upon a 
doubtful social problem, like the blessed sun¬ 
shine in nature, dispels many a cloud and 
clears the brain of many a dusty cobweb. 

“ I am willing to admit,” continued Morton, 
magnanimously, “ that it puts the thing in a dif¬ 
ferent light where an unmarried woman owns 
property. In that case it goes without saying that 
she, and consequently the property, is not repre¬ 
sented. But, you see, where a woman is mar¬ 
ried her husband represents her directly. I tell 
you it would never do to acknowledge that a 
married woman’s property interests are not 
identical with her husband’s.” 

“ Then you would be in favor of giving the 
right of suffrage to widows and old maids?” 
said Jack, quizzically. 

“ Well, I did not say that exactly. How you 
pick a fellow up, Rand.” 

Morton was slightly annoyed at the. con¬ 
clusion to which his admission forced him. 

“ I don’t know as I think they should actually 
go to the polls and vote; there are other ways 


6 4 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


in which they could be represented. I must 
say that I think you force me to appear in a 
wrong light. You talk as if you thought I was 
not willing to give the women a fair chance in 
the world. This is not true, but I can’t see that 
throwing the women into the present political 
maelstrom would benefit either them or us.” 

“Morton, old fellow, if I have not been fair 
in argument, I honestly beg your pardon; I only 
meant to draw you out. As for myself I don’t 
know what I do think on the woman question. 
I have about made up my mind that it is a 
problem not to be solved by us men, and the 
brilliant thought has occurred to me that, so 
long as we find it such a hard nut to crack, why 
not give the women a chance to solve it for 
themselves? It would at least satisfy them and 
if they made a failure of it they could not 
blame us, which would be an immense advan¬ 
tage on our side.” 

Morton laughed heartily. They had reached 
the hotel and stood under the great electric 
lights. 

“Well, at least we can leave it there for the 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


65 


present. We can’t stand here discussing 
woman’s rights at this time of night; we-would 
be locked up as escaped lunatics by your zeal¬ 
ous guardians of the peace. When am I to see 
you again? I leave day after tomorrow. I am 
afraid we shall not have time to settle the 
woman question.” 

Jack laughed good-humoredly at the nome 
thrust, and after making an appointment with 
his friend for the morrow, jumped into a cab 
and drove back to his sister’s house. 

Somehow it was a pleasant thought that 
there was a home in the great city where he 
was always welcome. 


CHAPTER VII. 


IE days flew by scarcely noticed in their 



flight by the busy members of the little 
household on Fourth Street. Jack was engaged 
in transferring his financial interests to the city, 
where his sister had made her home. He felt it 
both a duty and a pleasure to make her home 
his own. 

Helen and Kate, in their ceaseless round of 
professional duties and work for others, gave no 
heed to the fact that the summer was gone. 
Heat and cold bring no changes to those whose 
work knows no season. At the close of a short 
day in the early month of autumn, the two 
friends sat in Dr, Helen’s inner office, the sanc¬ 
tum sanctorum , as Kate called it, after their 
early dinner; Helen looking over some papers 
and Kate lying on her favorite settee thinking 
hard on some of her pet schemes. Suddenly 
she noticed that Helen was not at her desk, and 
looking around saw her standing at the long 
window partly hidden by the drapery, and peer¬ 
ing out into the dark. 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 67 

For mercy’s sake, Helen,” she exclaimed, 
” how you frightened me! I didn’t hear you 
move and thought for a moment you had 
simply melted away into luminiferous ether 
If you keep getting paler and thinner it would 
« not be surprising if you did.” 

Still no sound from the figure at the window, 
and Kate hurried over to her, really frightened 
at the long silence. She passed her arm caress¬ 
ingly around her and spoke in a low, soft voice 
which would have thrilled Jack Rand, could he 
have heard it: 

“You are very sad tonight, dear. What is it— 
can I help you? I have been dreadfully wor¬ 
ried about you for several weeks. You are not 
well—you are overworking—they will kill you 
at that wretched hospital. I shall insist on their 
furnishing you more assistants.” 

“ Oh, Kate,” almost sobbed her friend, “ it is 
not the hospital, but it has come at last what I 
have been so dreading.” 

“For heaven’s sake, Helen, what has come? 
Tell me quickly and let rtie help you—I can 
make it all right, I know?” 


68 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


“ Ah, Kate, if only I had your confidence in 
being able to manage fate,” said Helen, sadly, 
but with a smile at her friend’s ready promise; 
“but sit down, dear, and I will tell you. You 
must know, of course, and you will help me.” 

She walked to her desk, took from it a letter « 
written upon heavy linen paper and handed it 
to Kate. 

It ran thus: 

“Dr. Helen Rand :— Dear Friend: Our long 
and intimate friendship will have prepared 
you in a measure, I am sure, for the con¬ 
tents of this letter. You know how I value 
your friendship and all which that means to me. 
Your confidence in me and appreciation of my 
work has been to me the greatest inspiration a 
man could have. I am grateful to you for all 
you have been to me, but Helen, I want more—I 
want you to be my wife. It is unnecessary for 
me to tell you that in asking you to be my wife 
I do not expect that you will sacrifice, in any 
particular, your own individuality, nor do I for 
one moment wish to interfere in your work in 
any way. I ask only that we may each do our 
work side by side, that I may have every mo¬ 
ment your sweet sympathy and that my work 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


69 


may have the benefit of your clear tnought and 
judgment. I do not need to say more to you, 
dear friend; we have talked so often on all these 
subjects that it would be presumption on my 
part to explain to you what your own true heart 
knows full well. I know what I am asking, 
Helen, and prefei to write you. Will you send 
me a line saying I may come to you? 

Always your friend, 

Phillip Latimer.” 

“ Well, Helen, dear, I don’t see anything 
about that to mourn over. It is a manly, sensi¬ 
ble letter, I must say, but if you don’t love 
him and don’t want to marry him I am sure you 
needn’t grieve so about telling him. You are 
always over-sensitive about hurting others. It 
will be hard for him, poor fellow, I am sorry 
for him; but it is time men learned that women 
with brains enough to do anything else don’t 
care about spending their entire time waiting on 
them, and being tormented with their numerous 
shortcomings, although I must say, as men go, 
I think Phillip Latimer quite respectable.” 

“ But, Kate!” murmured Helen, as her friend 
stopped to take breath and there was an omin- 


70 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


ous silence. Kate jumped to her feet as if from 
an electric shock. 

“ Helen Rand, do you love him and do you 
want to marry him?” 

Helen rose and drew her gently down by her 
side. 

“ Kate, dear, I do love him.” 

“Oh, how blind I have been; how conceited I 
am. I have been fancying all this time that my 
love was all you wanted, all you needed. Be¬ 
cause I find in you all the companionship I 
crave, I have blindly thought my love could 
satisfy you. What a fool I have been!” 

“ Hush, Kate, do not talk so, I beg of you; I 
never loved you more dearly than at this mo¬ 
ment; I never needed you more sorely.” 

“ Forgive me, Helen, and tell me how I can 
help you.” 

“ I feel, Kate, that I am about to test your 
friendship truly. I cannot see Phillip Latimer 
again until he knows my whole history and I 
want you to tell him.” 

For once Dr. Kate Summerville had no 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


n 


answer ready. She looked at her friend in 
a blank, dazed way, and said slowly: 

“ Helen Rand, you don’t mean it—I cannot 
do it.” 

“ Kate, listen to me. I know what you would 
say, and I have thought of it day and night for 
weeks, and have made up my mind; he must 
know or I can never see him again.” 

Kate rose hastily and began pacing the small 
room like a caged lion. 

“ Helen, will he send some one to you to tell 
you his past life? Do you suppose for one in¬ 
stant that you know all the.details of his history? 
What business is it of his by what steps you 
have reached the position in which he finds you ? 
You bring to him a heart pure as an angel’s 
from heaven, and by what moral law are you 
compelled to describe to him the fires by which 
this heart was made pure? He recognizes in 
you a spirit which has conquered and must you 
open again the cruel wounds received in the 
bitter struggle which led to victory? Who asks 
of the conqueror the number of his wounds? 


7 2 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


No, Helen, you are wrong; it is not your duty 
to tell and I cannot do it.” 

“ Kate, dear, I acknowledge the truth of all 
you say and if it were in regard to some one 
else would, I am sure, counsel the same. But 
When one feels within the impulse to do a thing 
as strongly as I feel this, it preludes all argu¬ 
ment, it must be done. There will be no peace 
for me until he knows.” 

“Helen Rand, do you expect me to go to any 
man on earth and tell him that which in his 
blind judgment may make you unworthy of 
him; tell him there is a reason for his refusing 
to marry you, when you know that I don’t 
think the man lives worthy to touch the hem of 
your garment? Why do you ask me to do-this?” 

“Because, Kate, you are my friend; because 
I can trust you to tell him as he should be told, 
and because I—do—not—wish—to write it.” 

The hesitating tone of the last few words 
and all that it implied, the tired, weary look in 
the face of her friend, was too much for the 
noble girl; she threw her arms around Helen 
impulsively and said in a choked voice: 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


7 3 


“Say no more, Helen, I will go, but much 
less cheerfully than I would walk to the ex¬ 
ecutioner’s block, if that would serve you. 
When shall I go?” 

“Tonight, if you will.” Helen drew her 
friend to her. “ Oh, Kate, what a priceless bless¬ 
ing I have in your love!” 


CHAPTER VIII. 


P ROFESSOR PHILLIP LATIMER was 
seated in his private study, all unmindful 
of the fateful messenger hurrying toward him 
in the darkness. All was bright and cheerfnl 
within. He had lighted the low student lamp 
and was arranging his papers in a particularly 
happy frame of mind. He had little doubt what 
Helen’s answer would be. He knew he had no 
rival in her affection, and the very best and most 
modest of men have just enough self-conceit to 
feel very safe in regard to the woman they love if 
there is no one else in the field. It is asking 
altogether too much to expect them to doubt 
for a moment that a woman would prefer living 
with some man, who was in every way con¬ 
genial to her, to a life of celibacy, and the 
thought did not occur to Phillip Latimer. He 
felt that he and Helen Rand were as compan¬ 
ionable as a man and woman could well be. They 
agreed on all the important and disputed ques¬ 
tions of the day. She looked upon him as her 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


75 


guide and teacher in all ethical and religious 
questions; and under the influence of her pure 
and gentle womanhood he was proud to ac¬ 
knowledge that his ideas of woman and woman’s 
work had been slowly but surely attuned to her 
own. He felt for her that peculiar love which 
attaches one human being to another where there 
has been an interchange of intellectual help. 
He knew and felt proud to remember, that it 
was his lectures, delivered for so many years 
before a handful of people, which had brought 
peace and comfort to her tortured mind, tossed 
about on the sea of doubt, when the old theo¬ 
logical landmarks had been torn away. There 
was no pride of intellect about Phillip Latimer, 
and he felt equally pruud and grateful to re¬ 
member that it was through Helen’s forcible 
reasoning and even more through her forcible 
example, that he had learned to place woman, 
where every noble man loves to place her, on 
an equality with himself. 

As his thoughts passed from Helen to his 
work they were equally pleasant. On his desk 
lay before him his last Sunday’s lecture printed 


76 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


in full in the leading daily paper. This was the 
first time he had seen his own words smile back 
at him just as he had delivered them, and it 
was surely pardonable in him if he looked at 
them with a little feeling of pride. He tried to 
think humbly of the large audiences which had 
been greeting him for the last few months and 
to attribute them to the general unrest of the 
public mind on religious topics; but it was ex¬ 
pecting too much of human nature. He could 
not help comparing them with the small band 
of earnest men and women which had been his 
sole audience for nearly five years, with a stray 
convert now and then. For some unaccount¬ 
able reason, the daily papers had taken a notion 
to mention his lectures favorably during the 
past few months, and as soon as the dear public 
knew of him, the dear public did him the honor 
to come and hear, and having heard, a sufficient 
number came again to swell his audience an 
hundred fold. He had come to the city almost 
unknown; he had undertaken a work always 
tedious and unremunerative, to break down a 
popular religion and put a new one in its place. 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


77 


His adherents had been for the most part poor, 
struggling like himself to make an honest living 
without bowing down to the images worshiped 
by the crowd; doctors who were attempting 
that difficult task of building up a practice 
without “ church influence;” teachers who could 
not be trusted in our public schools for fear 
they would teach infidelity; merchants who 
would not sit in the synagogues and conse¬ 
quently did not have the confidence of their 
fellow men; these, with a few struggling artists 
and musicians made up, for years, his congre¬ 
gation. It was certainly pardonable then in 
even a modest man to feel some pride in 
having captured the public at last against such 
fearful odds. He did not feel, as many of our 
philosophers and moralists have felt, a contempt 
for that unknown quantity called “the public;” 
nor, strange to say, did he for one moment 
think that there was any danger of his losing 
the popularity which had come to him so late. 
He felt a genuine interest in each and every 
human being who had ever listened to his 
words, and his confidence in the beauty and 


78 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


truth of his own belief was so great that he 
doubted not for a moment that he must be able 
to convince all who would but listen to him. 
Nor was this a matter of conceit with him. He 
had given up a handsome salary in an orthodox 
church, where a congregation was always 
assured him, to assist a few earnest souls to 
spread what he considered the only truth, for a 
compensation which barely assured him a living. 
His conceit, if conceit it must be called, was 
pardonable on account of his overweening faith 
in his work and the good it was to do mankind. 

Not the least pleasant of his musings centered 
in a check which lay upon his desk. It rep¬ 
resented the large increase in his salary which 
had been voted him at the last business meet¬ 
ing of the society. Among the new members 
were a number of wealthy men, who, however 
sincere their conversion to the liberal faith 
might be, could not accept a cheap religion, and 
insisted upon putting Professor Latimer on a 
financial equality, at least, with the other moral 
leaders of the city. It was five times the 
amount he had been receiving all these eight 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


79 


years, and he smiled contentedly to himself as 
he wondered what he and Helen would do with 
it. She had her own independent income and he 
had lived comfortably on his former salary, so 
the majority of it could go back into the so¬ 
ciety; and what a comfort it would be to have 
plenty of money to carry on the kindergarten 
and the district nursing, his two pet projects. 

So deeply was Phillip immersed in his 
thoughts that the landlady had rapped twice 
before he realized that some one was seeking 
to gain admittance. He opened the door and 
received a card, which read: “ Dr. Kate Som- 
merville.” He looked at the card and then at 
his watch—nine o’clock. What could Dr. Som- 
merville want of him at this late hour, and on 
such a stormy night? It must be something 
important; perhaps she brings Helen’s answer. 
But no; Helen would do nothing of the kind. 
He hesitated a moment; then said to the wait¬ 
ing landlady: “ Please show the lady to my 
study.” He stood at the door, card in hand, 
while Kate mounted the stairs. He was too 
well-bred to show any surprise at her visit and 


8o 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


held out his hand with his usual pleasant smile 
of welcome. But there was no answering smile 
from Kate as she bade him good evening, and 
one glance at her face told Phillip that she 
brought him bad news. 

“Will you not take a seat by the grate, doc¬ 
tor? I imagine it is cold out tonight." 

“Thank you, I am not cold and prefer to 
stand. My errand is short and as it is late I 
will not intrude upon your time longer than is 
necessary. Dr. Rand has sent you a message, 
by me." 

She was looking him full in the face and even 
in her excitement noticed the sudden change in 
his countenance. He said nothing, but stood in 
a respectful listening attitude. Kate spoke as 
by a mighty effort: 

“ She has told me of your letter to her and 
has bid me tell you that little Paul—is—her— 
own—child." 

He looked at her at first, dazed, as if he had 
no comprehension of what she had said, then 
as the full meaning of her words came over 
him he clutched the back of a chair before him 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


8l 


so hard that the veins stood out in his forehead, 
and gazed at her speechless. They stood thus 
for one moment looking at each other in silence; 
Kate in the defiant attitude of a lioness waiting 
only for the attack of the enemy to defend her 
young; Phillip like one turned to stone. His 
thoughts would not come; he opened his lips 
but no word issued from them. At last he said 
in a husky voice: 

“ Have you nothing further to say to me—is 
that all your message?” 

“ It is all intrusted to me by Dr. Rand, but I 
have this further to say to you, Phillip Latimer: 
that in my eyes Helen Rand is as pure as the 
day she lay in her mother’s arms, a new-born 
babe; that in all this broad land there is no 
truer, nobler, purer woman than she.” 

Phillip tried to listen patiently, but there had 
never been any sympathy between himself and 
Dr. Sommerville and her words irritated him. 
Who should know better than he Helen’s worth? 
As Kate finished speaking, he said proudly: 

“ It is unnecessary to praise Dr. Rand to me.” 

“ Pardon me, I too love her,” and before 


82 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


Phillip could apologize or make a move to stop 
her, Kate had said “ good evening,” and closed 
the door behind her. 


CHAPTER IX. 

DHILLIP stood with bowed head where 
1 Kate had left him. As a mighty river, 
stopped at some point in its course for a time, 
rushes on more furiously when the levee is 
broken, so his thoughts, momentarily checked 
by Kate’s words, rushed back with renewed 
energy. 

“ That beautiful boy then is what the world 
calls an illegitimate child; and Helen”—he 
would not finish the sentence even in his own 
thoughts. Why had she chosen to tell him in 
this way? Why had she not written him? If 
she had only sent for him to come to her and 
herself told him the whole story. He knew in 
some way she must be innocent; it all happened 
while she was very young; Paul was nearly 
fourteen. In quick succession, scene after scene 
with Helen and the boy passed through his 
mind. He had been very fond of little Paul, 
and had taken a great interest in his education; 
the boy was he knew very much attached to 
him. At first his heart was filled with pity for 


84 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


Helen and her child; then lover like, he fell 
to pitying himself. What irony of fate that 
this trouble had come upon him just at this 
time when he was happier than ever in his life 
before. But why grieve? They had but to ac¬ 
cept the fact both of them and help each other 
to bear the burden of the knowledge of it. 
What did it matter after all what experiences 
she had passed through, if they had developed 
her into the grand woman she now was? He 
would go to her and take her in his arms and 
together they would defy the whole world if it 
should ever become known. He loved her and 
she was good and true. The thought that she 
loved him or she would never have revealed to 
him her life’s secret, made him feel the strength 
of a giant. Yes, she loved him and for that 
very reason would not bring any influence to 
bias his decision in the light of the message 
she had sent him. She had told him nothing 
of her story; nothing which could excuse her¬ 
self or work upon his sympathy. She was too 
proud to plead for herself and had sent him 
only the bare fact. The noble girl—how she 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


85 


must have suffered! He would go to her to¬ 
morrow; he would show her that his love for 
her was founded upon a rock and could not be 
moved. As he roused himself to continue his 
evening’s work, almost happy in his deter¬ 
mination, his eye fell upon the manuscript of his 
unfinished lecture. For the first time the 
thought of his work in connection with his 
marriage with Helen flashed upon him. The 
possibility that he might be contemplating a 
marriage which in the future might ruin his 
entire life-work, made his head reel. He could 
look past Helen’s history to the woman as he 
found her today, but could the world? If it 
should ever become known would his people 
uphold him in the step he was contemplating, 
or would they consider him a traitor to the 
cause of which they had made him their leader? 
Had he really a moral right to place the interests 
of his people in the hands of a woman who, 
according to them, had broken a moral law? 
He felt like a traitor to Helen for looking at 
her from their standpoint, but he was deter¬ 
mined, he said to himself, to do the right in this 


86 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


matter if he tore out his own heart. Every 
ignominy which orthodoxy could heap upon his 
work he had borne, but in spite of all it had 
grown from a weak plant to a strong tree, and 
he saw opening before him a limitless vista of 
good results from his hard work. If now he 
were to ignore the voice of his people in this 
matter, might they not refuse to be led in their 
moral life by a man who had disregarded a civil 
law? He argued first on one side and then on 
the other, until it seemed as if his brain were on 
fire. Was he a monster of injustice, he asked 
himself one moment, and the next feared in his 
selfish love for Helen he would prove a traitor 
to his work. He could decide nothing. He 
tried to write on his unfinished lecture, but in 
vain. He glanced impatiently at the little clock 
ticking away so contentedly in the corner. Two 
o’clock—impossible! His watch said the same. 
What had he been doing? It seemed only a 
few minutes since Dr. Sommerville left his 
study. Almost in despair he threw himself 
down on his couch and from sheer exhaustion 
fell into a restless sleep. 


CHAPTER X. 


K ATE hurried out of the house and into 
the dark streets, scarcely noticing the way 
she took so her steps were directed toward 
home. A light snow was just beginning to fall. 
She turned her face up to the dark sky, in 
which there was no ray of light, and the white 
flakes fell with a refreshing coolness upon her 
flushed cheeks. Bitter thoughts chased each 
other in rapid succession through her mind. 
Nothing but darkness everywhere; the blind 
leading the blind, and all groping in the dark. 
Nowhere a certain moral guide, and every¬ 
where injustice. What right has one human 
being to judge another? Who possesses the 
infallible scales of justice? What makes an 
act pure or impure, just or unjust? The social 
virtues of one century have proven to be the 
sins of the next, and still men continue to judge 
in the same dogmatic manner as they did a 
thousand years ago. For many hundreds of 
years the Christian world has been professing to 
follow him who said: “He that is without sin 


88 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


among you, let him first cast a stone at her;” 
and his followers are as ready today to stone 
the woman, as when the gentle Nazarene lived 
and taught. 

It was evident that Phillip Latimer, the 
flower of modern thought, a man as far in ad¬ 
vance of the popular religion of today as Jesus 
was in advance of the religion he worked 
so hard to overthrow—was not entirely freed 
from the superstitions of the past in regard to 
woman. Was it impossible for men to learn jus¬ 
tice? For centuries they have been trying to 
solve the question of the relation of the sexes, 
and every solution thus far has ignored entirely 
the one most vitally concerned, the child. In 
all our marriage laws, civil and religious, no 
thought is given to the helpless, innocent 
beings who are the chief sufferers under the 
law. The child of an unlawful union is branded 
illegitimate and a stigma put upon him from 
birth; the child born in so-called lawful wed¬ 
lock may inherit passions and diseases for 
which there is no cure. The love-child born 
without spot or blemish is an unholy thing; 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 89 

'but the unwelcome child of a loveless union, 
filled with a loathsome disease and debasing 
passions, it may be, is a legitimate product, be¬ 
cause forsooth a priest of some religion has 
mumbled a few words over the man and woman 
who produced this being. It is, according to 
vour laws, a perfectly legitimate thing for 
■criminals, idiots, lunatics and all sorts of moral 
and physicial monstrosities to reproduce their 
kind, so it be under the sanction of the law. It 
is the one unpardonable sin, on the part of the 
woman, to bring into the world a being, however 
perfectly developed mentally and physically, if 
without the sanction of Church or State. But 
what right has the Church or State, composed 
entirely of men, to make laws for women—above 
all moral law? What right have men to make 
laws whereby women are disgraced and chil¬ 
dren rendered homeless, through an act by 
which they suffer not at all? What right have 
men to make laws whereby they, with perfect 
impunity, may take advantage of a woman’s 
-love and trust, and then condemn her forever 
for loving and trusting? In a world filled with 


90 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


hatred, jealousy, malice, envy, distrust, injustice 
of every description, lo! the greatest of crimes 
is to have loved too well, to have trusted too 
much. It is no crime to starve the bodies and 
souls of helpless women and children; no crime 
for man to fatten on the life-blood of his 
brother man; no crime for men and women to 
so abuse their bodies as to fill our land with 
asylums, hospitals and poor-houses; no crime 
to produce human beings condemned to carry 
through life a loathsome disease, a horror to 
themselves and society. There is pardon and 
charity for all but the woman and her love-child; 
they are forever lost; the one has fallen, the 
other may never rise. A woman like Helen im¬ 
pure! Little Paul a perversion of nature! It 
seemed so monstrous she could have cried aloud 
in her indignation. The poet is right; justice has 
grouped her way among us all these weary 
years blindfolded; Truth, too hideous for the 
light, has refused to be seen of men. But the 
time has come when the eyes of Justice must 
be stripped of their bandage, and Truth must 
be dragged out into the light. 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


9t 

Helen was pure and good. Little Paul with 
his healthy body and sound mind was not an 
illegitimate product of nature. As the lights 
of Helen’s home glistened in the darkness be¬ 
fore her, she registered a solemn vow. 

“O, my sweet friend,” she said, half aloud, 
“pure as the angels in heaven; from this hour 
my every effort shall be to make you pure be¬ 
fore the civil law, as you have always been 
before the great moral law.” 

She mounted the steps with a lighter heart 
than she had known for many a day. “ I am 
strong,’’ she thought, “ my money and time are 
my own and I can do it. The women will un¬ 
derstand I am sure, and will help me;” and with 
a sudden thought, “he shall help me too. How 
better can he use his time and fortune than to 
make his sister a happy woman again? Poor 
Helen, if she could only see it all as I do!” 


CHAPTER XI. 


N OT finding Helen in the office Kate went 
to her room and knocked gently. No 
response, perhaps she has fallen asleep, she was 
;so tired. She opened the door with a beating 
heart, longing yet dreading to meet her. But 
the room was empty and the gas turned low. 
She descended the stairs to enquire of the maid 
if Helen was out, when she noticed a light in 
the library. Helen was waiting for her there 
she thought; strange she did not hear her when 
she came in. She opened the door in her quick 
business-like way, but stopped abruptly as she 
saw seated by the library table, reading, not 
Helen but her brother. 

Jack jumped up when he saw Kate and 
begged her to enter. 

“ Excuse me, I had no idea of finding you 
here." 

“A very disagreeable surprise, no doubt.” 
Kate ignored his remark and added: “ I am 
looking for Helen; do you know where she is? ” 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


93 


“ Yes, I met her as I came in, hurrying off to 
answer an urgent call. She looked so tired I 
tried to persuade her not to go, to send some 
one else, but she insisted she must go her¬ 
self.” 

*' I am sorry she felt obliged to go. She is 
really not able to work. I was just about ten 
say when you interrupted me so ungraciously 
that I was glad to see you. I had just been 
thinking of you.” 

“ Had you, really,” said Jack, much pleased 
at this concession on Kate’s part. “A clear case 
of occult science—I was just thinking of you .” 1 

Kate laughed, “I wanted to talk with you 
about Helen.” Jack’s countenance fell. “She is 
not well and needs a vacation and I want you- 
to pick her up bodily and carry her off some¬ 
where for a few days.” 

“ I should be delighted, I am sure, but I have 
noticed that my sister is not a woman to be dis¬ 
posed of so easily; she may have her own ideas 
on the subject.” 

“ Exactly; and that is the reason I want your 
help; if it was an easy matter I could manage 
it alone.” 



94 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


“Command me,” said Jack, with a stage 
flourish. 

“Thank you.” Kate laughed nervously and 
turned to leave the room. 

“Don’t go,” said Jack, “take the easy chair 
and talk to me awhile. I’ve got the blues and 
can’t get interested in my reading.” 

“ I will be poor company, then,” answered 
Kate, “for I am tired and cross myself.” 

“Well then, stay and let me cheer you up; it 
always cures me of the blues to see any one 
■else blue.” 

“ Similia similibus” said Kate, laughing. She 
threw herself in the easy chair Jack had drawn 
up to the grate. This was, after all, a relief 
from her own thoughts and she did not wish to 
retire until Helen returned. 

“I have been wanting a talk with you for 
several days,” began Jack, “ but had despaired of 
bringing it about. You are always so desper¬ 
ately busy with your round of societies and 
clubs. You will excuse me for saying it, but I 
never saw any man work so hard to make 
money as you do to spend yours.” 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


95 


Kate sighed. “ Your remedy for the blues is 
heroic. I am glad I haven’t a complication of 
disorders, or I am afraid your treatment would 
prove fatal.” 

“You can laugh,but I am in earnest. It drives 
me to desperation never to be able to have any 
serious talk with you alone. Of course you 
will call me a fool and I know it myself, but I 
have determined to tell you that I love you and 
ask you to be my wife. I know well what you 
will say but so long as I am sure I have no rival 
I will not despair of winning you some 
•day.” 

He had not moved from his seat and now 
looked over at her for the first time. He had 
never seen but one side of Kate’s nature. He 
had been attracted to her by her physical 
beauty, her strong mental characteristics and 
the genial, hearty camaraderie which she 
showed in her intimacy with men and women 
alike. Her utter indifference to him as a possi¬ 
ble lover had no doubt strengthened his deter¬ 
mination to win her. He was startled as he met 
her gaze; her great black eyes were bent full 


96 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


upon him and the fire from the grate gave then® 
an added brilliancy. 

“ Mr. Rand, you are mistaken; I have no dis¬ 
position to call you a fool for what you have just 
said to me. Do you think women like myself 
have no heart, no feeling? You have paid me 
the highest tribute a man can pay a woman and 
I assure you I can appreciate’ it. I believe 
you to be an honest, true man' and that I cannot 
and do not return your love, is not because I do 
not appreciate your worth. But you are mis¬ 
taken when you say you have no rival, for your 
rival is the most dangerous one a man can have— 
a life work. There is in my life no room for 
such a love as you would offer me. Not that I 
despise it; on the contrary I consider a true 
love between a man and woman the most en¬ 
nobling of all sentiments; but before such a 
love came into my life the wrongs and injustices 
of my own sex had taken such a hold upon my 
very being, that my every thought, waking and! 
sleeping, is for them; My time, my money, my 
talents, whatever they may be,T have dedicated 
to the cause of an oppressed class, and when T 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 97 

tell you that I have no time for other interests 
it is literally true.” 

Kate had spoken earnestly and rapidly and 
Jack had no answer ready. Here was this young 
woman in an entirely new light. He had flattered 
himself that he understood her, but his idea of 
her was as different from the reality as day from 
night. He bowed his head upon his hand to 
gain time; he felt instinctively that he must 
think rapidly to argue his case at all. 

“Granted all you have said, Dr. Sommerville, 
but might not a man interested like yourself in 
public work and especially in securing to 
women and children their rights, be a help to 
you instead of a hindrance? Could we not 
together accomplish more than you could 
alone? I hope you believe me honestly inter¬ 
ested in the noble work I find you and my 
sister Helen engaged in.’' 

“ Indeed, I do, Mr. Rand, believe thoroughly 
in your honesty of purpose, and Helen and I are 
counting much on your help this winter, but .1 
assure you my work and above all my thoughts, 
are in a direction which precludes my doing 


98 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


my duty as a wife and mother. It is not that 
I despise such a position, but I have too high a 
regard for motherhood to enter that profession 
with my hands and heart devoted to another 
cause.” 

“ But Helen has been filling the position of a 
mother all these years in which she has been 
practicing her professsion and doing public 
work besides.” 

“Ah, yes, I grant you there are a few rare 
women like Helen, with great executive ability 
and a trained judgment, who can carry success¬ 
fully several different interests, but I am not 
one of them. I am one idead, and know too well 
my own limitations. There are times when it 
actually irritates me to have patients come in 
my office when some public measure is on my 
mind. I have even thought seriously of giving 
up my medical work, to have all my time and 
thought for the work which lies nearer my 
heart. So you see, Mr. Rand, I could really not 
think for a moment of taking up another pro¬ 
fession when I am anxious to get rid of the one 
I have.” 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


99 


Kate shot at him a merry glance, but it was 
lost on him this time. He was thinking too 
seriously. He saw that it was useless to argue 
longer with her now. He honestly admired and 
respected her. If he could not be her lover he 
must be her friend, he thought, and having 
gained her friendship he need not despair of 
Winning her some day. Jack Rand was a man 
of the world and knew that the next sentence 
Would seal his fate. He said quietly: 

“ Dr. Sommerville, I two can appreciate what 
you have said to me. Let it be so then. I may 
not hope to make you my wife, but may I not; 
bear the proud title of your friend? Will you 
not let me help you in the good work you are 
doing?” 

Kate jumped up and held out her hand to 

him. 

“Most gladly, you cannot know how we need 
the help and counsel of good honest men.” 

He rose and took her hand in his strong 
grasp and held it for a moment without speak> 
ing. He had never felt so proud in his life. 

“You know I have decided to take up the 


100 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


law, in case I am not too old to learn,” he said, 
smilingly, “ and a knowledge of the law, together 
with a good-sized bank account, may make me 
of some value in your work.” 

Kate had retreated a few steps and was lean¬ 
ing against the mantel. Jack saw that she in¬ 
tended to stand and moved to the other end of 
the mantel, where he could look at her across 
the firelight. 

“ Mr. Rand,” said Kate, suddenly, “ you have 
tonight talked to me in a way which proves 
your confidence in me. I believe you to be a 
good man, and as I have noticed many times 
your interest in children, I dare to ask your aid 
in a special work to which I am pledged; to 
secure a law which shall protect little children 
from being turned adrift on the world \yithout 
home or parents; to secure to every child its 
inalienable birth-right, a father’s name and a 
mother’s care; in a word, to make it impossible 
for a child to be illegitimate and to make 
motherhood always sacred. There can be no 
such thing as an illegitimate child. What a 
travesty of justice to place a stigma on an un- 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


IOI 


born human being! Behold the picture: The 
woman stands alone, an outcast forever from all 
that woman holds most dear, and her child 
from the moment he shall open his innocent 
eyes to tho light of day must bear the mark of 
sin upon his forehead; himself guiltless he must 
make this struggle for existence with the finger 
of scorn ever pointed toward him. And this is 
what men call justice!” 

To say that Jack was astonished and in¬ 
terested would but mildly express his state of 
mind. As Kate proceeded he leaned forward 
as if to catch the full meaning of every word. 
Her cheeks were all aglow, her eyes sparkled 
with the intensity of her feeling, and her auditor 
felt the fervor of her indignation and said, ex¬ 
citedly: 

“Monstrous, indeed,” and then checked him¬ 
self, as if half ashamed of his own feeling and 
said more quietly, “ but I had never thought of 
it in that light before. How will you remedy 
this injustice?” 

“ By legalizing these marriages,” continued 
Kate, more calmly, “ They are marriages be- 


102 DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 

fore the great moral law; a hundred priests 
could not make them more binding. What more 
solemn pledge can a man and woman give of 
their love than to bring into the world a human 
being? Let men and women know that paren¬ 
tage marries them before God and man; let 
them know that the laws of property and in¬ 
heritance bind them as strongly as though they 
were married by priest or clerk. This law alone 
can do justice to the innocent child; make it 
impossible for a woman to be betrayed and blot 
out forever that odious word ‘ bastard.’ ” 

As the full meaning of Kate’s words dawned 
upon him a suspicion flashed through his mind 
which made him scrutinize more closely the 
countenance of the earnest woman before him. 
She spoke with so much feeling; was it probable 
she would feel so deeply if stirred by no per¬ 
sonal experience? But the next moment he 
was ashamed of the thought. It was impossible 
he said to himself, that one should plead so 
openly, so frankly and with no embarrassment 
whatever in word or act if a thought of self was 
the motive for her speaking. Clearly he had done 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


103 


her a great injustice to allow the faintest sus¬ 
picion to cross his mind, and his contrition 
made his voice very sympathetic as he an¬ 
swered : 

I believe you are right, doctor; I have my¬ 
self often thought how unjust public opinion 
was toward women in this regard, and have 
wondered that they did not rebel against such 
injustice, but could never see any way to 
change it. I don’t know as I quite understand 
you. You hold that parentage implies and 
presupposes marriage; the twain become one 
flesh in the child; they are married; let society 
recognize the fact and the State ratify it. Am 
I correct?” 

“ That is my position exactly.” 

“ Undoubtedly this would be well for the 
child, and the tendency of the age is to read¬ 
just the world to the interests of childhood. 
But how would this law apply in the case of 
those who would find themselves twice married 
perhaps.” 

“ It would apply,” said Kate, emphatically, 


104 DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 

“by proclaiming them bigamists and making 
them subject to the laws of bigamy.” 

“ Ah, I see your point now, it is all in the 
interest of the child.” 

“Certainly. Whose rights should be pro¬ 
tected if not those of the unconscious beings 
brought into existence without their knowledge 
or consent?” 

“ But would not this view of marriage be put¬ 
ting it on a lower plane; be in fact robbing it 
of that high meaning which it possesses for a 
refined nature?” 

“You must remember,” answered Kate, “that 
I am speaking only of a civil marriage, of a 
recognition of a contract by the State. It may 
be that over that higher marriage, the union of 
souls, the meeting of two minds which affords 
to both the highest intellectual companionship, 
the State should have no jurisdiction. There 
are those who claim that the obligation of the 
parents to the child is the only moral question 
involved in the relation of the sexes of which 
the State has a right to take cognizance. When 
the relations of two people, be they of the 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


105 


same or of the opposite sex, do not in any way 
affect another, it is not clear in my mind 
that the State has the right of interference with 
personal liberty; but when two people have 
brought into the world a human being they are 
no longer free agents; they have given hostages 
to the child and to the State, of which the child 
is an integral part, from which no power in 
heaven or earth can release them. No; I see 
no other way out of the dilemma; unless, in¬ 
deed, it were to make all children ward^s of the 
State and to abolish civil marriage altogether. 
If the State recognizes for itself any rights 
whatever over the relation of the sexes, it must 
acknowledge parentage as one, and indeed the 
principal cause for the existence of a civil mar¬ 
riage contract.” 

It would have been no doubt highly enter¬ 
taining to a third party, to have witnessed the 
gradual change of this conversation from an 
impassioned declaration of love to a philo¬ 
sophical discussion of one of the gravest and 
most perplexing of social problems. It is safe 
to say that both Kate and Jack had forgotten 


106 DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 

for the moment the scene which preceded the 
present conversation. They were both fond of 
discussion and Kate’s enthusiasm and earnest¬ 
ness on this subject had carried Jack with her : 
by a force he was powerless to resist. There 
was a perceptible silence after Kate’s last, 
sentence—when Jack said suddenly and with a 
grimace, as if the thought had just occurred to 
him: 

“It would leave the odds a trifle in favor of 
the women!” 

Kate laughed outright. They were not ac¬ 
customed to such serious talks together and the 
whole evening had been a hard one for her. 
She had been on a severe nervous strain before 
meeting Jack. She had a keen sense of the 
ridiculous, and the comical side of her even¬ 
ing’s experience now occurred to her for the 
first time. 

“ I admit it,” she said, “ but being a woman 
I am naturally a little prejudiced. Besides 
would there not be poetic justice in this, con¬ 
sidering the multitude of women whose wrongs 
can now never be righted? The ghosts of a 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 107 

thousand Hesters would rise up to acquit us of 
any injustice to the men.” 

“ Do you realize, I wonder,” said Jack, medi¬ 
tatively, “ what a gigantic work you have under¬ 
taken? Imagine what a revolution such a law 
would make in society. You will have to fight 
the superstitions of ages and the Church will be 
no doubt the first to object.” 

‘*Yes, I realize all that; but surely there are 
true men and women enough who have thought 
on this subject to see the justice of it.” 

“ I don’t know,” said Jack, doubtfully, “but at 
least you can count on me. If it cannot be ac¬ 
complished the object is great enough to fight 
for in vain. But hark! there is Helen; can we 
not talk it over with her? She will agree with 
us, of course.” 

“ Hush, no,” said Kate hurriedly, as Helen 
entered. 

“Back, Helen? How tired you look.” 

“Yes.” she answered wearily, “ I am tired. 
Alice died tonight at the hospital and she clung 
to me so I was obliged to stay with her to the 
last. She died with her little babe in her arms 


io8 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


and with her last breath was moaning: ‘What 
will become of my child; who will care for it’ ? 
She refused absolutely to tell the name of its 
father and there is nothing to do, I suppose, but 
to send the poor little thing to the Foundling’s 
Home.” 

She looked at her auditors, surprised at their 
Solemn faces. Surely Kate was used to such 
stories. 

“ Pardon me, it is late and you too must be 
tired, Kate; why did you wait up for me? I 
should not bring you home such doleful tales. 
I am so sorry, Jack, that I was not able to stay 
home with you tonight. You know professional 
women are never to be relied upon for company. 
I am going to be very ungracious, too, and leave 
you after you have been so good as to wait up 
for me. Good night." 

Kate followed her to her room. 

“You saw him, Kate?” 

• “Yes.” 

For the first time in their entire intimacy 
Kate felt ill at ease in the presence of her 
friend. She knew not what to say. Helen was 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


109 


so strong it seemed presumption to pity-her. 
She had not asked for sympathy. 

“ I only staid a few moments. Oh, Helen, I 
am afraid you chose a poor messenger. It was 
a great shock to him.” 

“ Yes, I knew it would be. Good night, dear; 
I have a busy day tomorrow and must try and 
sleep,” and Helen passed quickly into her room. 


CHAPTER XII. 


HE powers of unrest had taken possession 



1 of Dr. Helen’s little household. Kate 
seated herself at the low window in her own 
room and looked out vacantly into the darkness. 
It seemed impossible for her to fix her mind on 
any particular scene of the many in which she 
had been an actor during that eventful day. It 
was as if she had been through so many phases 
of life during the last twenty-four hours that 
no connected train of thought could establish 
itself in her mind. Every once in a while she 
would hear light noises in Helen’s room, and it 
was long after midnight when she heard Jack 
stealing quietly up the stairs to his room. After 
a time all was silent, and still she remained at 
the window with no thought of sleep and seemed 
to herself not really awake. At last faint 
streaks of light appeared on the horizon, strug¬ 
gling with the darkness, as if the spirits of good 
and evil were contending for the mastery. 
Kate seemed dimly conscious that the night 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


Ill 


was Over but felt no inclination to arouse her¬ 
self. Suddenly a bright gleam of light shot 
into the room directly in her eyes and at the 
same moment there flashed through her mind 
these words: “Helen cannot marry Phillip Lat¬ 
imer; according to your own theory she is al¬ 
ready married.” She jumped up and put her 
hands to her head; she felt so strangely; had 
she been asleep? No; she was sure she had 
not slept and yet she was conscious that this 
was the first connected sentence which had been 
in her mind since she threw herself in the chair. 
Her thoughts came fast enough now. Helen 
was already married; that was plain; but why 
had she not realized it before? She grew almost 
angry with herself at her own stupidity. Then 
the possible conclusions, to which she might be 
forced from this standpoint, rushed through her 
mind with lightning rapidity. Would the moral 
law forbid a second marriage? Had then the 
state no right to annul a marriage which the 
higher law of justice had sanctioned? Justice 
to the child certainly demanded that parentage 
should be recognized as marriage under the law; 


112 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


but on the other hand the right of the child to 
be well-born must demand that marriage should 
not always mean parentage. She rebelled at 
the thought ot being forced to view marriage 
from that standpoint; but turn where she would 
for arguments against her own position, she 
could see nothing but the sad faces of myriads 
of innocent little children pleading with Church 
and State for a father’s name and a mother’s 
love. 

The sudden noise which she made in rising 
from her chair penetrated to Helen’s room, and 
a moment later there was a light tap at the door 
and Helen entered. “I heard you moving 
around, Kate, and dared to come and beg a lit¬ 
tle talk with you; may I come in?” 

She stood in her long white wrapper in the door 
way, a background of darkness revealing more 
perfectly her pale sweet face, and as she turned 
toward the window the faint streaks of light 
from the rising sun seemed to throw a halo 
around her. 

Kate looked at her for a moment with a 
feeling almost of awe, then rousing herself she 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


U 3 

stretched out her arms to her. “Certainly, dear 
friend, you can never come to me when I am 
not longing to see you. I have been thinking 
only of you.” 

“Oh! Kate-, you should not allow my clouded 
life to darken yours. I sometimes wonder if I 
have any right to accept all your sympathy and 
love and allow you to bear such a large part of 
my burden.” 

“Helen, I beg you will not harbor such 
a thought. You give me the rarest 
thing on earth, a perfect confidence, a tiue 
friendship. There can be no such thing as a 
balance of obligation on either side. Our in¬ 
terests are one; neither of us can help bearing 
the burdens and sharing the pleasures of the 
other. But have you not slept?” 

“No, but I have solved the problem, Kate, 
and my mind is at rest; I cannot marry Phillip 
Latimer.” 

Kate started; the identical words she had 
heard only a moment ago. She said nothing 
and Helen continued: 

«t feel that my duty to my 


child forbids it; I 


114 DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 

could not live if I thought any action of mine 
would ever cause him to say: ‘Mother, you 
have been untrue to me.’ The time will come 
when he must know our true relation; and God 
speed the day when he shall be old enough to 
understand. It is this concealment which has 
seemed to me at times would break my heart; 
if it were not for my public work I could not 
have borne it. Those who give me so much 
credit for bearing the burdens of others little 
know that only so can I bear my own. Kate, 
if in every way I have conserved the interest of 
my child; if my every thought and action have 
been with reference to my obligations to him, 
then shall I not need to fear his judgment on 
that day when he shall know the truth. But you 
are silent, Kate; do you not think I am right?” 

As Helen proceeded many emotions had been 
raised in Kate’s mind; joy at Helen’s decision, 
and at the fact that she had arrived at this con¬ 
clusion so soon and without knowing Phillip’s 
decision; pity for the woman compelled to live 
over again in a single night the agonyof years; 
.a delight which she could not repress, that their 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


15 


own relation was not to be disturbed. She 
tried to answer calmly, but her voice trembled. 

“ I believe you are right, Helen. As long as 
our laws are so unjust and put upon children 
like little Paul an added burden to bear through 
life, you who brought him into the world have 
an added responsibility over other mothers. 
You will not mind my saying this much, dear 
Helen; and I do not believe you have anything 
to fear from telling Paul the truth. He is a 
noble boy, far maturer than his years would 
warrant, and I am confident that the knowl¬ 
edge of your suffering would but bring to the 
surface all the wealth of tenderness within him, 
and make him prize the more the devotion you 
give him.” 

“ I felt sure you would agree with me, Kate. 
Phillip Latimer is, I am sure, good and true; 
but it is expecting too much of human nature, 
that he should look upon Paul as his own child 
if other children came. I have all my life 
guarded his interests so jealously that I do not 
dare to trust myself in the relations into which 
this marriage might bring me. In my pro- 


Il6 DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 

fessional work I have seen too many failures in 
attempting to join families not related by 
blood. It is very clear to me now that it is my 
child’s right to demand of me an undivided 
interest and attention. I have no moral right 
to put myself in any position where there is 
danger that his rights may be trampled on.” 

She had seated herself by the window in a 
chair facing Kate. As she ceased speaking her 
drooping attitude and pale face showed to the 
professional eye of her friend the complete 
mental and physical exhaustion the night of 
self-communion had produced. Kate jumped 
up and raised her gently in her arms: 

“And now to sleep, my dear; you have made 
a noble decision and I cannot allow you to say 
another word until I see a brighter look in those 
tired eyes.” 

“ Yes, Kate, I will sleep now; and you?” 

“ I, too, will rest.” 

When she had seen Helen to her room, she 
snatched her wraps and stole quietly down the 
stairs, and out into the glorious day which was 
breaking. The light snow-fall of the evening 


DOCTOR HELEN RAND. 


II 7 


before had cleared the atmosphere and left that 
crisp feel to the air which sends the blood ting¬ 
ling through all the veins. The old sun glittered 
and danced on the fresh fallen snow, as if be¬ 
side himself with joy at the sight of something 
so pure. Kate breathed in the beautiful scene, 
and seemed to herself to be walking on air; 
not one feeling of weariness—she was not to 
lose Helen after all. It might be selfish, but it 
was human nature. She knew she could make 
Helen happy and now she was to have a chance 
to do so; she felt so sure that Helen had made 
the wisest decision. As she returned to her 
room after a brisk walk, and noticed in the 
mirror her own sparkling eyes and cheeks 
aglow, she laughed aloud: 

“ I certainly don’t look like one who has 
watched out the night,” she thought. “ I be¬ 
lieve, after all, I must have slept.” 







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